Penny's POV
The car is loaded with boxes again before we even realize how many trips we've made. Andrew keeps glancing over at me with that familiar smirk of his daring me to complain about the chaos.
"I think we're officially out of boxes," he announces, setting the last one down in the living room. He places his hands on his hips as he surveys the scene like a general inspecting his troops.
I groan, flopping onto the couch. "Out of boxes? You mean we've run out of ways to carry all my stuff into your apartment without collapsing?"
He chuckles, crouching down to open a box of mugs. "Exactly. But don't worry, I've labeled them carefully. So explosions today. And Penny, you should start calling this place 'ours', not mine."
I blush, then I snort. "You're insane. You know that, right?"
"Crazy for you," he says, his eyes glinting. I bite my lip to keep from laughing.
